


Finding Meaning

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Voynich Manuscript (Book)
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: Teaching the Ways had to be preserved, but it had to keep the Practitioners safe, too.





	Finding Meaning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsukara (AndThenTheresAnne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndThenTheresAnne/gifts), [marginaliana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/gifts).



> This was an interesting kind of fandom, and I noticed two prompts that kind of overlapped. I hope you don't mind sharing a gift!

There had always been those who knew the Ways, but finding them was difficult. Often, Practitioners were drawn to other Practitioners, like drawn to like. That made it easy to band together, to lay down the Laws of the Ways, pass along the sacred knowledge to the next generation of Practitioners. It was easy when Practitioners were all related to one another, or within the same village.

At first, the fellow villagers benefitted from having a Practitioner. Children were born healthy and mothers survived even the most complicated of births. Crops flourished and animals didn't wander too far from chosen pastures. Practitioners worked hard, after all, and helped others with only gifts in return that the people could part with. They were full and valued members of villages, and being a Practitioner was only part of their identity.

Things changed with time, as all things did. Elders grew old, mistrustful. Not all diseases could be prevented, not all illnesses treated. Mean comments turned into rumors, rumors turned deadly. It was no longer safe to openly be a Practitioner in some villages; cries of witchcraft and devilry began to circulate, with lethal results.

Being a Practitioner was a calling, and most understood the risks involved in the craft and working the Ways. Death was a new risk, one born of hatred and fear, and was now something to consider and reconsider.

Teaching the Ways had to be preserved, but it had to keep the Practitioners safe, too.

Development of a Practitioner language was soon underway, and a new way to find the next generation of Practitioner was developed.

***

Anna laughed along with her friends at the museum field trip. It was a chance to be out of class; she'd never liked sitting in a classroom being lectured. There were group activities and projects, but most of her classmates were idiots and none of her friends cared about academics anyway. Her parents were busy with work to make ends meet, so she was most often caught taking care of her younger brothers and sisters, playing Mom more often than not. She was aware of why it was so important, rent in the city was absurdly high, and day care cost too much, but she couldn't help but resent it anyway. It wasn't like anyone cared about how well she did in school, because she'd likely go straight to work in the factory alongside her parents anyway.

Museums were pretty, but didn't ultimately mean anything to her personally. So if her friends made faces at exhibits or snarked at each other, that was her bigger priority.

Anna stopped when the group came to pages scrawled in odd handwriting. The guide said it was nonsense, and no one knew the language it was written in. To Anna, it didn't look like nonsense writing or a mishmash of drawings. The pages looked far larger to her, as if they could fold and unfold, and the words arranged themselves in a way that she could understand.

She found herself pressed up to the glass showcasing a few select pages of the mysterious manuscript. Her friends' chatter faded away as she focused on the pages, her lips moving as she made out and read the inscription on the top of the first displayed page.

_Welcome to the Ways, Practitioner._

The tour guide was beside her, eyes glittering with joy. The guide had the same dark skin and hair that Anna did, her hair woven tightly into braids with beads worked into them at the ends. The name tag on her museum uniform said her name was Georgia, and Anna didn't find it strange that this woman was smiling at her as if they were old family friends.

This is a fascinating manuscript, don't you think?" Georgia asked her. "It's baffled the experts for centuries." She sounded almost gleeful about that fact.

"I can read it just fine," Anna protested.

The pleased expression on Georgia's face didn't waver in the slightest. "We should talk about that, then. It means something, but most people don't understand it." She handed Anna a business card. "Hang onto that and call me later tonight. We can begin talking about this."

For Anna, that didn't feel strange at all, even though most adults seemed to dismiss her as irrelevant most of the time. Her friends had already drifted away, and didn't seem to notice that she'd stopped to look at something with interest. They had continued wandering off, ignoring the tour, ignoring the majesty of the museum.

"I don't get free time 'till late. I got stuff to do, and people don't always like being called late," Anna began, twirling the business card between her fingers uncertainly.

"That's my cell phone number. Call or text anytime, and we'll figure it out."

Anna finally looked down at the card in her hand. It had the name Georgia Mari and her cell phone number on it. There were no notes on the card whatsoever otherwise, so Anna wasn't sure what there was to discuss.

When she looked up, Georgia had moved out to collect Anna's classmates to move on to the rest of the museum tour. Anna looked back at the displayed pages, a ghostly image of herself reflected back at her in the glass protecting the pages. The size fluttered in the corners of her eyes, giving her the sense that there were more pages caught inside and within the pages put on display. She couldn't help but wonder why she could read it and understand it, when English class was just an exercise in futility on most days.

She'd find a way to contact Georgia about this book.

***

Anna forgot about it that night, but was sulking in her room the next day when her two little brothers were fighting each other, not listening to her, and she was caught in the middle when her parents came home. It was _not_ her fault they weren't listening! She was only fifteen, for god's sake. They were ten and eight, and it wasn't fair to have her play referee. At least her two younger sister were small enough to avoid getting into _too_ much trouble, but at five and six, the time was coming up a lot sooner than she wanted it to.

Stalking around her room, she finally went through her clothes to set them up for the wash. The small business card tumbled out of her pocket, landing on the floor with the name and number face up. Georgia Mari, the museum tour guide that knew more about those freaky manuscript pages that no one else seemed to be able to read or understand.

Before she could question herself about it, Anna dialed the number. At first it just rang, and she thought she'd have to stammer through a message, but Georgia finally picked up the phone. "I was hoping you would call, Anna," she said as her greeting.

"I never told you my name."

"No, you didn't. but those that know the Ways and are Practitioners can sense and understand these things very easily."

Anna couldn't tell how she knew that Ways and Practitioners were important, but she did. "So what does that have to do with me?"

"My dear Anna, I believe you have the potential to be a Practitioner. You can see the Voynich manuscript for what it is and what could be, and only those who understand and manipulate the Ways are able to do that."

"So what is it?"

Georgia laughed, a warm honeyed sound that didn't leave Anna feeling stupid. "Simply put, the Ways are magic."

"I have magic?" Anna scoffed. "Me?"

"Why not you?" Georgia challenged.

"Because nothing weird ever happens to me, and magic doesn't exist."

"Reading a book no one else can isn't weird enough for you?"

"Well, I guess. But it's dumb. It's not really magic just to read something."

"Isn't it? Random symbols scribbled down beats everything else I can think of. You transfer knowledge and explore places that you've never been, just by reading words on a page. It's a random set of symbols we all agree mean the same thing, no matter where in the country or world that you are, and we learn."

"Now you sound like a teacher," Anna groused.

"Well, depending on whether you're interested or not, maybe I could be _your_ teacher. Knowledge like this should be shared, after all, and you have great potential."

Anna thought of the whorls and pictures of plants on the pages, the feeling of rightness that had come over her as she had read the words.

_Welcome to the Ways, Practitioner._

She sighed and knew Georgia could feel her acceptance. "There won't be a lot of homework, is there? I barely do what's required as it is."

Georgia laughed. "Relax. It'll be fun."

Famous last words.

***

School was boring, and became even more so after Georgia began with teaching the Practitioner language. "But I can already read the stupid thing!" Anna tried to protest.

"But can you write in it? Can you encode your knowledge so that only other Practitioners can read it?"

Anna had grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and began to write one of the things she remembered from the museum pages. Reality didn't fold around them, and the words on paper remained stubbornly flat.

Georgia raised an eyebrow as Anna growled at the paper in frustration. "It's a different kind of writing," she told Anna patiently. "It's power and intent as well as the content of what you're writing. So it's a separate skill, and the foundation of learning the Ways."

"That just sounds dumb," Anna complained.

"Doesn't everything when you first start?" Georgia pointed out.

So began the first lessons in the Language of the Ways, painstakingly learning how to focus intent and content. That also served as a way to focus on reality, on the world around her, and gradually Anna began to see the connections between people, the lives they led and the hopes they had for the future. Her parents thought this was a mentorship program through the school, and grudgingly carved out money for a babysitter so that Anna could participate. The babysitter was a woman that Georgia knew, actually, so the wild behavior of Anna's younger siblings didn't bother her in the slightest. If anything, Anna's parents thought they weren't as hyper in the evenings when they came home from work, and Anna certainly wasn't as stressed when they came home after double shifts.

"Okay," Anna's mother sighed. "I guess this is better for you. But it's another expense for us every day. It adds up." Anna's heart sank as her mother scrubbed at her face wearily, sure that this experiment was about to crash and burn, leaving her back at home with her siblings every day instead of in one of the museum workrooms with Georgia.

"We'll make it work, _mija,"_ she said finally, reaching out for Anna's hand to squeeze. "I don't know how, but we will."

Anna's heart swelled with love, and she gave her mother a watery smile. "I'll do what I can at home. The mentoring might lead to a job. I can ask."

"I'll sign whatever working papers they need. They won't let you work many hours right now, and pay might be low."

"But it's a start."

"It's a start," her mother agreed. "You always work so hard, _mija._ I'm so proud of you. You'll do so much more than me and your dad can ever do."

Though she was almost embarrassed, Anna hugged her mother. It was all she'd ever wanted to hear, and she wanted her mother to feel the love and hope for the future that she felt in that moment. She could almost feel the goodwill radiate out from her chest, and afterward felt so drained and overwhelmed that she went to bed early.

It wasn't easier to learn the writing and interpretation of it, but Anna found it easier to read from the manuscript and the learn the information kept in it. "It's a lifetime of data in here," Georgia told Anna. "A whole Way of life, and one that I hope you continue with for the rest of your life," she said with a wide, warm smile.

"Wait, hope?"

"Some people decide the Ways are too difficult to follow and step off the path. Or don't continue with their studies and development. There's no right or wrong way to be, Anna," Georgia told her patiently. "This isn't all or nothing. This is learning, then figuring out how best to apply it, given the situation that you're in."

Anna thought about it, about the conversation with her mother. "My mom's proud of me, you know? That I'm studying and in a mentorship. That I could get a good job. I like that."

Georgia gave her a warm smile. "I can put a good word in at the museum or the university. That'll get your foot in the door, but it'll still be all your hard work to stay there. The Ways aren't easy." She eyed the scribbles on the paper in front of Anna. "As you can see. _I_ think it's worth it, and worth learning. But ultimately, I'm not going to make that choice for you. Not to scare you, but I want you to make an informed decision."

"Yeah, I get it. This feels more real than school, you know? Like it's something that really matters. Like I can do it." She picked up the pen and did a small swirling letter that had given her trouble before. This time, the symbol expanded into multiple dimensions and became the full word for "family," the one that had connotation for the world at large and the connections between people.

"Oh. It worked," Anna breathed.

Beaming, Georgia swept her up into a tight hug. "There. That's your meaning."

"Huh?"

"The first successful Word is the reason why we work the Ways. It's the purpose we have in the world. _Family._ That's why you're here."

She was a true Practitioner of the Ways, and her journey was only beginning.

The End


End file.
